"Down the Whispering Well," post 4
Apr. 5th, 2008 04:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thrihyrneTitle: Down the Whispering Well
This post rating: adult
Warnings: usual angst
Word Count: 5530
Disclaimer: Ashmael, Vaysh, and the harish world all belong to Storm Constantine; I'm merely playing with great abandon in her sandbox.
Pairings: Vaysh/Ashmael (historic); Vaysh/OC
Novella summary: Being brought back from the dead doesn't mean happily ever after, especially if you're Vaysh. Life has its costs, and he pays dearly. An exploration of Vaysh's character in the years before and through Pellaz's transformation, and the burdens he endures, because he must.
Chapter summary: The months pass more quickly thanks to Jaffa and Firethorn's presence. Noric asks questions that lead to illuminations about Firethorn and Vaysh; it's news to Noric, Grimska and Feslavit, anyway. Vaysh experiences the beach for the first time before Thiede comes along to do what he does best in Vaysh's life: turn it topsy-turvy. Continued from post 3, here.
A/N: I did some research comparing the maps of Almagabra to Europe and Phade's tower looks as though it could be in modern-day Poland. To that end, I've placed 'the cold place' in Lithuania. The city they go through to get to the beach (Baltic Sea) is Palanga, and the nearby scenic World Heritage Site of the Curonian Spit. I'm a total research whore; I needed to know where I felt they were in my mind's eye, so I'm sharing that with you all. Google searches will reveal picturesque photos of both Palanga and nearby town of Klaipeda. At this site you'll find a couple of beautiful high-res photographs of the Curonian Spit.
Once I knew myself, and with knowing came love
I would know love again if I had faith enough
Too far is next spring and her jubilant shout
So angels, inside is the only way out.
~ "Drought," Vienna Teng
* * * * *
Over the next several months, Firestorm and Jaffa, especially, got me out of doors much more often than I'd been inclined to before. During Natalia, while I was otherwise engaged with Velaxis, Jaffa had heeded my advice and spent quite a bit of time talking with Noric. The hara of Tollsend were only too eager to share some of the picturesque cross-country routes they travelled on skis… for fun. I was very disinclined to enjoy such an activity. Going for a long horseback ride was one thing, but strapping on long skis and gliding along for miles just to look at the scenery out in the freezing cold, that seemed barbaric. It was good exercise, though, and once I quit getting so sore after each outing, I began to look forward to our excursions. There were wide bands of rolling hills under a vast, limitless sky. On the forest tracks, deer and the occasional wild boar could be seen unless we spoke too loudly.
Velaxis had returned to Immanion the day after our memorable evening and I began sensing Thiede's presence more acutely. His impressions were not like mind-touch, nor were they images I saw in dreams, but at times I felt as though I saw through his eyes. The intrusions weren't sudden or bold interruptions, but I did find I was drawn to meditations with more frequency than I'd engaged in the past. Dring those periods of inner qiet, he showed me what he wished to. I spposed it was his way of reminding me that I was never truly alone, as surely he could see into me at any point, but also that I was to know things that were of interest to him, all throughout the Wraeththu world— and some human establishments as well.
Jaffa, Firethorn and I, and sometimes Feslavit as well, ventured to Tollsend, spending several days in a row with Grimska and Noric. It seemed to be an organic evolution of friendship; my former companions from Castlegar were genuinely interested in these hara's introspective pursuits of art and candle-making. Noric and Grimska had many layers to their very different personalities, however; as the months went on and we had long conversations by firelight, more was revealed about them like peeling layers from an onion. Together we built a sauna. More days than not, we lolled around in the nude as sweat rolled down our faces and sprang out from all our pores. Noric had artist's eyes; he was the first to ask Firethorn and me about our flawless forearms.
One early evening we'd been enjoying the heat and camaraderie of the sauna. We'd all gone outside, yelling and swearing various profanities as we dashed into the snow. After pausing to gape at the radiant blaze of stars overhead, back into the sauna we ran. I sprawled on a towel, but most of the others sat against the wooden walls, passing around a bottle of dauthi. It took a few minutes for my heart to slow back down to its usual, unnoticed beat from the crazed thumping after our excursion outside. As I leaned back on my elbows, I perceived that Noric's gaze had quite thoroughly lingered on Thorn, as though he were memorising every nook and slender plane, the laugh lines at his lips, and the dark freckles sprinkled on his reddish-brown skin. I'd had it in my mind that he might well be working on a secret portrait of him to give to Jaffa or simply to hang in his own studio. All at once I sensed the clamouring of questions that time and the liquor finally let loose.
"Firethorn," he asked, leaning in over his legs, "where is your inception scar?"
Jaffa's response was the most comedic; he sat up straigt, looking inordinately pleased and proud. Firethorn didn't think anything of it anymore, but his chesnari seemed to think it reflected favourably on him and his good taste — or being deemed worthy — that he was linked with a Firstborn. Firethorn eased his back against the wall, pulling his legs up and draping his tawny arms over his knees. A slow, infectious smile settled onto his lips.
"I wasn't incepted. I was born har. I keep forgetting that I'm still a bit of a novelty." He glanced over at Noric, whose expression was much like one who'd been told that, in fact, pigs did fly and a flock had been seen heading westward into the sunset. Grimska seemed similarly shocked, though his expressive face bore wisps of intrigue. Feslavit, after his time in Thiede's service, I had been sure would be unsurprised by anything. He stared, unblinking, until Firethorn let out a throaty chuckle and gestured for the dauthi from Grimska.
"Didn't mean to bring the conversation to a screeching halt!" he said good-naturedly, wiping the lip of the bottle before taking a swig and putting it on the bench below him.
"That's— fascinating," Noric said at last before his leonine eyes slid over to me. "You, too?"
I leaned my head to the side and wiped at the sweat clinging to my eyelashes. "No. I was incepted all right. Something else happened that makes Firethorn's gestation and birth seem like a run of the mill occurrence."
"One day, perhaps, it will be," Firethorn said with a shrug. "I don't doubt that Jaffa and I will host a pearl, or more than one. Maybe one apiece."
Grimska piped up. "I want to know more about that, but Vaysh, you can't just dangle something like that and not follow up. Explain, please. Then I need someone to tell me what the hell pearls have to do with anything."
Jaffa was in an exceptionally effusive mood, leaning over to kiss Thorn with a quick but passionate sharing of breath. I ruthlessly squelched any thoughts of comparison to past claims on my lips.
"Do you know anything of Thiede?" I asked.
"Not really," Noric replied. "From Feslavit we've figured out he's the master of your mini-kingdom over there, and he's quite powerful. I've noticed disturbances in the airs and strange energies from the fortress, but not all the time. Not in a while, actually. Who is he?"
"He is a supreme har." Feslavit spoke with reverence and awe. "He created Vaysh from shadow, spirit and memory."
Noric looked highly skeptical. "Beg pardon?"
I let out a laboured sigh. "I haven't actually asked him straight out, so I don't know details. What Feslavit says is correct. I died at Castlegar, but Thiede had plans for me, and apparently not even something as trifling as death was going to change them. Instead, something else unexpected did," I said, swallowing back the bitterness stuck in my throat.
"He… you're regenerated? Brought back from the dead?" Noric's eyes grew wide. It was the most blatant shock I'd ever seen in his usually pragmatic expression.
"Yes. I don't know how; some harish miracle. It took him seven years, but I didn't know that until Jaffa and Thorn were brought here. Before, I had an inception scar and—" The vivid band of my tattoo flashed into my mind's eye, but I forced that anguish away as well. Velaxis' 'Don't be ungrateful' rang in my head. "I'm almost exactly the same," I finished, a bit lamely.
Grimska regarded me, the incredulty rolling off of him like his sweat. The silence became oppressive. Though I wanted to think even less on pearls and harlings snatched away from me, any topic seemed better than the thundering symphony of unspoken questions.
"You weren't alone before, were you?" Noric asked, an unexpected tenderness in his voice.
"I'm not discussing him," I said flatly. I wanted to scour my mouth with razor wire; anything to get the forbidden taste of Ashmael forever off my palate.
Grimska patted Noric on the thigh, and the topic was dropped. Firethorn stepped into the breach, elaborating on the genesis of harish-exclusive life, and his first years with his hostling and father. Jaffa couldn't resist interjecting his devotions to Thorn, about Firethorn's skills and harish qualities, all but stating outright that aruna with him surpassed any other experience: that Firethorn, in essence, was beyond compare. Firethorn's mouth quirked in a precocious grin, looking under his lashes first at Jaffa, and then bestowing a wide smile and shrug on Grimska and Noric. I had no doubt those four would be up all night together after that blatant display. More power to them.
They should invite Feslavit in, I thought, stifling my remembrances of Velaxis' tongue as it had mapped my body like an enthusiastic cartographer. I'd not let anyone near me since; not due to any false loyalty to Velaxis, but because I couldn't bear it. Aruna made me want to be soume, which brought me grief.
* * * * *
Another interminable winter at last began to thaw. After a couple of tantalysing false starts, the land warmed in earnest. The air filled with incessant dripping sounds as the icicles and layers of snow hearkened back to their liquid form. Faint plinking streams turned to rushing gullies. Vegetation sprang up from the ground; trees decked themselves in green finery. As the days grew longer, Firethorn enlisted the help of Kervad, a kinshar to Nevrast and companion of Feslavit, with the building of a greenhouse. Thorn seemed the most animated when he had at least one construction project going. On a mild afternoon in early summer, I joined Firethorn out in a section of woods near the garden. He'd decided to create a treehouse of sorts, which I thought was foolish, but his enthusiasm was contagious. From the platform he'd constructed, we could see the shining glass of the greenhouse, much like the one he'd fabricated in Castlegar. I asked him if he missed the mountain— Thiede hadn't told them what his plans were, only that he wanted them to be nearer to Immanion than Megalithica.
"I miss my father and hostling," he admitted. "I wish I could send them a letter or something. Maybe I can visit again, but I'm having a good time here. I do miss Lemmy a bit, too. He'll break hearts, that one."
I mulled over his comments, and thought of Velaxis, the har who said he acted on free will alone. The har who was the personal assistant to our godhead; our manipulative, far-seeing, loving and pitiless creator. But I'd seen weird mysteries in Velaxis' gaze, his pride and the flame of individuality that burned as brightly as Thiede's. Maybe he was the only har capable of withstanding a bout of aruna with Thiede. Why wasn't he made Tigron, then? Perhaps he'd said no. He was titanium and diamond, beautiful and with an almost alien strength, a harrowing vision of the indestructable.
"Why don't you write to them. Ask Jaffa if he wasnts to write to Wycker or whomever else. Just don't mention me; I don't think anyone there would understand. I think I know of a har who'd be willing to take a message to Castlegar for you."
His face brightened. "I can guess who you have in mind. He's an odd one; I can't place my finger on what it is. He has a quality to him that's unseen, like when you see a shadow out of the corner of your eye but when you turn— nothing."
"Like a vampire?" I suggested and he laughed uproariously.
Once he'd calmed down, he said, "Yes, that would explain a lot! Except you didn't have to wear a scarf around your neck the morning after Natalia. If he'd been a vampire, he couldn't have resisted you."
I gave him my best deadpanned expression. "If he'd been a vampire, I'd have been sucked dry."
Summer spread her arms over the countryside, and everyhar basked in the sunny days and relatively mild nights. A couple of weeks before the height of summer, Kervad convinced Jaffa and Firethorn to go with him to spend a day or two out by the sea. They in turn, without much provocation, convinced me to join them. Feslavit had gone off on some week's-long errand to Olopade, a harish territory to the southwest of us. He didn't volunteer what it was about, and I didn't press him. I'd never been to the beach, never in any of my former two lives, and I found I had butterflies banging around excitedly in my stomach the morning we set off. Kervad's hair, thick and straight and the colour of cornsilk, was pulled back into a wide plait, with a small cascade of blue hepatica flowers woven in. He sang as he rode and after a short while, Thorn accompanied him. When Kervad dropped out, Firethorn sang a bit on his own, a more earthy but no less joyful sound pouring from his throat.
Our path took us into an abandoned human town. As with all of them, it was in an accelerated state of decay. The empty stone buildings and wilted, but still-proud houses that hearkened back to a much earlier age, seemed less malveolent than some. Kervad confirmed this, saying, "Plague and fear drove most humans from this area before we came into being. It was long empty when we came on the scene. We've been fortunate and haven't had many skirmishes. It doesn't mean that humans won't return from the east, though. Their weather is much harsher."
The tang of salt lifted my spirits like dandelion fluff carried lazily on the breeze. Wheeling gulls cried to one another as they circled overhead. Even before I set eyes on the waters, I felt a lightening on my heart; it was as though I'd been carrying a boulder for ages and hadn't known it until all at once, it was taken from me. The cobblestone roads weren't the worse for wear, and the sound of our horses' hooves clopping on the stone sounded like music. A wide expanse of beach greeted my vision, a dun-coloured swath of sand, unspoiled and with tall grasses growing in tufts. Nearby were pine forests, their resiny fragrance beckoning me almost as powerfully as the pristine sand. I glanced over at my companions, who appeared to be as caught up in rapture as I was.
"What do you think?" I called over to Jaffa. The wind had picked up and it was blustery, yet bright and warm.
"Unbelievable!" he said, glee stamped on his face. "This is gorgeous!"
We spent the day frolicking in the water, eating, drinking and lying in the sun, though I made a shelter for myself as it didn't take long for me to get a sunburn. Around mid-day Kervad and Jaffa went and caught a few fish in a river that bisected the former human town. We'd brought along plenty of fresh fruit, bread, some sweet cakes, and plenty of liquor. As the day sped too quickly along to evening, it was decided we should spend the night. The wind had calmed as the day progressed and the horses were housed in a stable near the beach. Kervad said his kinshar had built the stable several years ago; most of the hara who'd gravitated to the fortress had been incepted near Tollsend but found themselves called to Thiede's vague summons.
The night was mild, and the sun didn't set until quite late. Jaffa made a fire on the sands and brought out a guitar— not his from Castlegar, but one he'd borrowed from another har from our stronghold. Firethorn had a wooden recorder-like instrument that Kervad had carved for him; the two played duets and Kervad sang a few songs as Jaffa attempted to accompany him with varying success. As the dauthi flowed, Kervad fashioned an impromptu drum from a piece of driftwood. To my own amazement, I found myself dancing, slow and sensual while Kervad drummed a hypnotic beat and Firethorn played a tune worthy of a snake-charmer. Eventually we settled down for the night, Thorn sprawled out at Jaffa's side, a small assembly of blankets discreetly covering them.
Kervad spread out his bedroll near mine while wordlessly propositioning me. He had dignity robed in a childlike naivite which suited him, though I found it paradoxical. That night, I also found him irresistable.
"It must be the sea air, razzing my common sense," I said as he fumbled with the inner flaps and laces of my riding pants. They were a bit complicated to unfasten, and we were all pretty drunk. "I don't do this anymore."
"Then this has been the best kind of excursion," he said, his green eyes shining delightedly. He acted as though he had a pile of gifts to unwrap, as opposed to just getting me to a full state of undress. "You should do this. We need it. You need it, just as you really needed to get away and to swim like a fish in the waters."
"It was freezing!" I reminded him as he straddled my lap. Behind him a gibbous moon hung low and oversized, a luminous voyeur above the horizon.
A saucy grin traipsed across his lips. "It's good for you." He let his hands and fingers to the talking for a time. I could tell he was being cautious; he was respectful and wary. He teetered between ouana and soume; he tried to pick up on my every nuance.
"Come here, meadow eyes," I said. They were an arresting emerald colour, with blue-grey around the pupil I'd noticed earlier in the day. He eased himself down on me, playful and eager like a puppy. "Just kiss me," I said hoarsely as his mouth hovered atop mine. "Kiss me so deeply I taste only you. We can share breath later."
Though I could tell I'd accidentally hurt his feelings, he agreed. I explained without words how much passion could be conveyed with only filaments of shared breath, letting the body and our tongues claim and nibble without an onslaught of images. I was an instructor— I was shocked. It emboldened me, though I wasn't so far in my cups as to consider being soume. Even the thought of it thawed open the wounds best kept in their frozen stasis.
"The ouana is strong in you," I noted, stroking slowly up and down his ouana-lim, enjoying the sensation of the soft skin over strong core, of teasing open the closed petals as he groaned his frustration and desire.
"And the soume in you," he panted, licking wetly up my neck to feast on my mouth. He shared breath more fully, spilling his passion and lavendersilk lust deep within my lungs. His own fingers found their way to card gently at the soft hairs around my ouana-lim, though it was plain he wanted to let them spelunk further into my hidden caves. "Why are you fighting it?"
My body had become used to long, self-decreed deserts of aruna and affection, but now my harish soul was deafening in its cries to be fed. I still rule you, I thought, allowing many pleasures but harshly freezing off the parts I didn't want to face.
"Kervad, now isn't the time," I said with tenderness, and a faint overtone of rebuke. "The fact that you and I are sweaty and naked under the moon is rare enough. I don't want to dig up spectres from my past."
"Gloriously naked."
"What?" His hand had ventured tenaciously between my legs; I gripped his ouana-lim, not to the point of pain, but enough for him to heed the warning.
"You're gloriously naked," he repeated, his errant fingers back around the base of my quite interested, pulsing ouana-lim.
"Have you ever tried aruna with both har as ouana?"
He shook his head, a boyish smile on his face. "Why would anyhar do that?"
"Because it feels incredible." I kissed along his jaw to the sensitive skin of his earlobe. "And because it's what I want to teach you."
A faint sigh ghosted over my shoulder, but he soon forgot any disappointment once I'd arranged us side to side and head to groin in an unbroken loop of bliss. Like the rest of him, the scent between his legs and the taste of the flowered flesh was of musk and fragrant thyme. We each banqueted on the full fruits of the other's ouana-lim; he was fierce and yet worried about his technique. Finally via mind-touch I forced out, You're doing everything right. Be natural. This is aruna, too.
Once he trusted me, he licked and kissed with abandon until the fiery circle of our commingled pleasure consumed us both. We were hurled into the white explosion of release, a noisy enterprise muffled somewhat due to our full mouths. He seemed almost sheepish afterwards, wanting to cuddle up next to me. I suspected he'd not been so taken by surprise since his initial experience. I hoped he wouldn't read signs into our coupling that weren't there, and to my relief, he didn't. He pointed out constellations to me in an increasingly sleepy voice as I told him the names for the patterns as I'd been taught. I'd nearly closed my eyes to sleep when a star shot down the far right of the sky, its red trail gleaming for precious seconds before it vanished.
"A shooting star!" Kervad said excitedly, though through a yawn. He nuzzled at my temple, decorating the side of my face with slow kisses. "They're good omens."
"For what?" I asked, genuinely curious.
"For everything. For travel and personal destiny. You can make wishes on them, too."
He'd draped himself half on me, and I'd pulled our blankets over top of us. I hadn't slept out of doors since the scouting party that had led to that first meeting with Thiede, long ago. I let out a deep breath, exhaling those memories to make room for new ones in this moment of peace.
"Do you have a list of wishes?" I asked softly, turning on my side in his arms to get comfortable.
"No, I'm pretty easy-going. I believe in bringing my wishes and hopes to life on my own."
"Wise har."
He let out a huffed snort and kissed my forehead. "Wise-arse is probably more accurate. Sleep well, Vaysh."
"You too."
When I awoke the next morning I was alone, my head full to bursing with the wild courses of dreams I'd had in the night. The remembrance of them was vivid and unshakeable for a time as I relived them before their clarity dimmed: I'd walked past Firethorn and Jaffa, rooning up on the platform of the treehouse, Jaffa standing with Firethorn behind, Jaffa's face in ecstasy as he took both roles as soume and ouana. Venturing up toward the fortress I'd looked at the garden, overflowing with vegetables as though no-one had tended it in years. When I opened the door, once inside I was back in the upper astronomy room at the heart of Castlegar. I'd busied myself at the telescope while Velaxis, suddenly in the room with me, had me point it to this constellation and the next, calling them by names I'd never head of and showing me an astronomy book I couldn't read. 'Didn't you learn anything?' he asked, exasperated, but all of the pretense and haughtiness had been washed away from him, and I cried at how beautiful he was. He consoled me, rocking, because I'd crumped to the floor, crouched at his feet until he'd pulled me up into his lap like a child. I sobbed and sobbed while he shushed me. 'Your beauty lies in tragedy,' he said, as though I'd feel better. In the dream I had felt comforted, and wandered off, finding myself in the dilapidated farmhouse on the Varrish border. It was night and the moon shone so brightly that everything had shadows, a chiarascuoro landscape of silvers and greys. There was a regular thudding sound followed by cracking. Curious, but not frightened, I'd wandered around the side to see Ashmael chopping wood with his sword. He smiled at me, his face smudged and his hair long down his back. 'We need to build a fire,' he said. 'Okay,' I'd replied, looking for an axe and pulling my hair back. 'I'll do it,' he said, and gratefully I'd stepped over to him, letting him braid my hair.
On the beach, my eyes gritty with tears I must have shed during the night, I tried to sort through what it all meant and decided it was just a dream, filled with the snippets of memories brought back by sleeping under the stars. I did feel a tiny flicker of intimacy with Jaffa and Firethorn that wasn't warranted, as the memories of powerful dreams like that seem like truth.
"How'd you sleep?" Firethorn asked, a blanket pulled around him as Jaffa worked the fire. I'd guessed Kervad had gone to tend to our horses; he adored them and was quite often at the stables when Firethorn hadn't conscripted him to other enterprises.
"Pretty well," I said, stretching. "I had a huge, crazy dream, though. You two were in it."
"Dare I ask what we did?" Jaffa asked with a lopsided grin.
"Well…" I let my voice trail off.
"All that after the aruna you took?" Firethorn tossed out, his eyebrows raised in mock disbelief. "I'm surprised you dreamed at all. I bet Kervad slept like a log."
"I'm full of surprises," I drawled, heading over to the woods to take care of my aching bladder.
* * * * *
I went back to the welcoming, abandoned town and long spit of high sand dunes with its pine forests several times that summer. As the season waned and the air grew full with the buzz of preparation that autumn heralded, Feslavit and I made a trip out together, just the two of us. We took a tent to shelter us from the cold now that the days and nights were far more brisk. We walked along the shore, lost in our thoughts, when a roiling cloud appeared in the distance down the strand. I stopped in my tracks, my mouth suddenly dry. I knew of only a few people who travelled by sedim, and one I hadn't seen in quite some time.
Sure enough, with a grand, elegant leap from the aethers, Thiede came down onto the beach towards us. Both he and the sedu radiated their regal resence as the horse galloped nearer us, slowing to a walk as they approached. Thiede looked around at the sea, and setting sun, smiling benevolently as though giving it all his approval. I tried to quell the fear that raced in me; I had no idea what thoughts went through Feslavit's mind.
"Hello Vaysh, Feslavit," Thiede said warmly, patting his sedu and shaking the ice crystals out of his vivid hair. "This is a picturesque beach. Not as warm as I prefer, but a beautiful location nonetheless."
I didn't know what to say. I was at a loss as to how to act around him, even now when he had cast off his intimidating luminous, god-like presence that so often blazed around him. Right now he was in a more simple guise of har, but he was here for a reason.
"I'd never been to a beach until this summer," I finally forced past my stiff tongue.
"I love the water," Thiede said wistfully, pulling his cape around him and dismounting onto the sand. I was sure he'd come from Immanion, far to the south. "Balmy water, that is. Feslavit, your homeland has all kinds of natural hot springs and pools, doesn't it?"
"Yes, and geysers. Lots of hot pools, mineral waters, but also glaciers and ice. I thought it was beautiful."
"The place of my birth was decidedly not," Thiede declared, and the sentence was spoken such as not to invite any questionning. "However, now I surround myself with beautiful things and gorgeous hara, who are building an exquisite city of dreams. That's not why I'm here, though."
The ozone scent had faded; his sedu nosed at his hair and a knowing smile graced Thiede's face. I suddenly wondered if they communicated even when not traversing the wild madness of the Otherlanes. I couldn't imagine one of those otherworldly creatures as a pet; they were far too regal and proud for that. A companion, of sorts?
"There's a frivolous area to the south, Ferelithia. Nothing too scandalous, yet, but I hope there will be. I'd like you and the two from Castlegar to go and spend some time there. I'll see much of it through you; I can't seem to stay incognito for long and I'm curious," he said, amusement flickering in his eyes.
I simply couldn't look him full on for more than a few seconds, even in this demure state. Still, I indicated I'd heard and approved, as though I could do anything else. Moments later I glanced over at Feslavit, who seemed quite vexed.
"Why do you not send me, too?" he asked, moving by instinct nearer to me. The occasions we shared a bed were platonic, but his hopes and devotion ran as deep as the ocean. "I take care of him."
Thiede's eyebrow raised; the sedu wandered a few steps away to graze on some nearby grasses, blowing in the wind.
"Vaysh. Do you need taking care of?"
I disliked having to be rude outright, but there was nothing for it. "No. He knows that. He cares for me; there's a difference. It's loyalty."
"I need you here, Feslavit," Thiede insisted.
"For what?"
His ability to stand up to Thiede was inspiring, even if unwarranted. I was more nervous about getting closer to Immanion, even though I knew full well Thiede wouldn't let me anywhere near Ashmael.
"To run the household. To make sure the hara of Tollsend and other nearby towns don't get soft. I picked you and planted you here. I thought you liked it?"
Thiede had drawn closer, and cupped Feslavit's strong jaw in his hand, the long fingernails pressing slightly into his skin. Feslavit quailed, but remained stalwart in his convictions.
"I do," he said, his voice low and respectful. "But Vaysh has my heart. Even if he doesn't want it."
A short, heavy sigh came from Thiede's lips and he rolled his eyes. "You're sentimental, and needlessly tragic. I'd so hoped that hara wouldn't sink so quickly back into the ridiculous affectations of humankind when it comes to relationships."
I'd begun tugging at the hair behind my ear. I caught myself doing it; it was a nervous habit.
"Vaysh is lovely, though overly maudlin and stand-offish without reason. I adore you, too, though," he said to me silkily, "otherwise you wouldn't be here now. But I want your eyes and ears in Ferelithia for a time, and then I think you should get to know your neighbour Phade in Olopade. Don't talk back to me, Feslavit. I won't have it."
The hand on Feslavit's jaw had been brushed down his long neck, the back of Thiede's fingers smoothed past his throat. With the last two sentences, however, Thiede's eyes sparked the faintest silver anger, and his palm smacked above Feslavit's heart. His gesture caused Feslavit to swallow hard, his Adam's apple jostling noticeably.
"So! It's decided," Thiede went on, his jovial demeanour bursting from him like an oppressively bright morning after a night of too much dauthi. He stood between us, draping an arm over our shoulders like a swan spreading her wings over goslings. Thiede's scent was of orange and cedar; he smelled of golden smoke, released from the driving passions burning ceaselessly in his blood to beautify, englighten, rule, and subdue.
"We all deserve happiness," he said brightly. We watched the waters lapping at the sand, a biting wind hitting us with a gust from the north. "And I shall be happy once my chief engineer stops hounding me for a street plan. I thought that was why I brought him on. I'm far more interested in the design of the palace, and keeping an eye on some promising hara in Saltrock and your own Castlegar. Though I've already brought the cream of that crop across the Girdle of Tiamat."
He drew away, my banging heart slowing down from its frenzy once he wasn't right next to me. He paced the few steps to the sedu. "Velaxis will be here in a day or two. Be ready to go; he'll bring sedim for the three of you. I'm sure Tassia will enjoy seeing you again."
My gaze followed him as he swung gracefully onto the back of the horse, inclined his head in farewell, and raced down the sand. The gravity-defying creature leaped joyfully into the air, and the turbulent rippling in the aethers stilled.
Feslavit turned to me, forlorn. His voice was leaden with resignation. "You are leaving, foxglove."
"So it appears."
He nodded, and took my hand. We walked slowly back toward the tent, Feslavit kicking viciously at the sand.
"I will help you pack."
This post rating: adult
Warnings: usual angst
Word Count: 5530
Disclaimer: Ashmael, Vaysh, and the harish world all belong to Storm Constantine; I'm merely playing with great abandon in her sandbox.
Pairings: Vaysh/Ashmael (historic); Vaysh/OC
Novella summary: Being brought back from the dead doesn't mean happily ever after, especially if you're Vaysh. Life has its costs, and he pays dearly. An exploration of Vaysh's character in the years before and through Pellaz's transformation, and the burdens he endures, because he must.
Chapter summary: The months pass more quickly thanks to Jaffa and Firethorn's presence. Noric asks questions that lead to illuminations about Firethorn and Vaysh; it's news to Noric, Grimska and Feslavit, anyway. Vaysh experiences the beach for the first time before Thiede comes along to do what he does best in Vaysh's life: turn it topsy-turvy. Continued from post 3, here.
A/N: I did some research comparing the maps of Almagabra to Europe and Phade's tower looks as though it could be in modern-day Poland. To that end, I've placed 'the cold place' in Lithuania. The city they go through to get to the beach (Baltic Sea) is Palanga, and the nearby scenic World Heritage Site of the Curonian Spit. I'm a total research whore; I needed to know where I felt they were in my mind's eye, so I'm sharing that with you all. Google searches will reveal picturesque photos of both Palanga and nearby town of Klaipeda. At this site you'll find a couple of beautiful high-res photographs of the Curonian Spit.
Once I knew myself, and with knowing came love
I would know love again if I had faith enough
Too far is next spring and her jubilant shout
So angels, inside is the only way out.
~ "Drought," Vienna Teng
* * * * *
Over the next several months, Firestorm and Jaffa, especially, got me out of doors much more often than I'd been inclined to before. During Natalia, while I was otherwise engaged with Velaxis, Jaffa had heeded my advice and spent quite a bit of time talking with Noric. The hara of Tollsend were only too eager to share some of the picturesque cross-country routes they travelled on skis… for fun. I was very disinclined to enjoy such an activity. Going for a long horseback ride was one thing, but strapping on long skis and gliding along for miles just to look at the scenery out in the freezing cold, that seemed barbaric. It was good exercise, though, and once I quit getting so sore after each outing, I began to look forward to our excursions. There were wide bands of rolling hills under a vast, limitless sky. On the forest tracks, deer and the occasional wild boar could be seen unless we spoke too loudly.
Velaxis had returned to Immanion the day after our memorable evening and I began sensing Thiede's presence more acutely. His impressions were not like mind-touch, nor were they images I saw in dreams, but at times I felt as though I saw through his eyes. The intrusions weren't sudden or bold interruptions, but I did find I was drawn to meditations with more frequency than I'd engaged in the past. Dring those periods of inner qiet, he showed me what he wished to. I spposed it was his way of reminding me that I was never truly alone, as surely he could see into me at any point, but also that I was to know things that were of interest to him, all throughout the Wraeththu world— and some human establishments as well.
Jaffa, Firethorn and I, and sometimes Feslavit as well, ventured to Tollsend, spending several days in a row with Grimska and Noric. It seemed to be an organic evolution of friendship; my former companions from Castlegar were genuinely interested in these hara's introspective pursuits of art and candle-making. Noric and Grimska had many layers to their very different personalities, however; as the months went on and we had long conversations by firelight, more was revealed about them like peeling layers from an onion. Together we built a sauna. More days than not, we lolled around in the nude as sweat rolled down our faces and sprang out from all our pores. Noric had artist's eyes; he was the first to ask Firethorn and me about our flawless forearms.
One early evening we'd been enjoying the heat and camaraderie of the sauna. We'd all gone outside, yelling and swearing various profanities as we dashed into the snow. After pausing to gape at the radiant blaze of stars overhead, back into the sauna we ran. I sprawled on a towel, but most of the others sat against the wooden walls, passing around a bottle of dauthi. It took a few minutes for my heart to slow back down to its usual, unnoticed beat from the crazed thumping after our excursion outside. As I leaned back on my elbows, I perceived that Noric's gaze had quite thoroughly lingered on Thorn, as though he were memorising every nook and slender plane, the laugh lines at his lips, and the dark freckles sprinkled on his reddish-brown skin. I'd had it in my mind that he might well be working on a secret portrait of him to give to Jaffa or simply to hang in his own studio. All at once I sensed the clamouring of questions that time and the liquor finally let loose.
"Firethorn," he asked, leaning in over his legs, "where is your inception scar?"
Jaffa's response was the most comedic; he sat up straigt, looking inordinately pleased and proud. Firethorn didn't think anything of it anymore, but his chesnari seemed to think it reflected favourably on him and his good taste — or being deemed worthy — that he was linked with a Firstborn. Firethorn eased his back against the wall, pulling his legs up and draping his tawny arms over his knees. A slow, infectious smile settled onto his lips.
"I wasn't incepted. I was born har. I keep forgetting that I'm still a bit of a novelty." He glanced over at Noric, whose expression was much like one who'd been told that, in fact, pigs did fly and a flock had been seen heading westward into the sunset. Grimska seemed similarly shocked, though his expressive face bore wisps of intrigue. Feslavit, after his time in Thiede's service, I had been sure would be unsurprised by anything. He stared, unblinking, until Firethorn let out a throaty chuckle and gestured for the dauthi from Grimska.
"Didn't mean to bring the conversation to a screeching halt!" he said good-naturedly, wiping the lip of the bottle before taking a swig and putting it on the bench below him.
"That's— fascinating," Noric said at last before his leonine eyes slid over to me. "You, too?"
I leaned my head to the side and wiped at the sweat clinging to my eyelashes. "No. I was incepted all right. Something else happened that makes Firethorn's gestation and birth seem like a run of the mill occurrence."
"One day, perhaps, it will be," Firethorn said with a shrug. "I don't doubt that Jaffa and I will host a pearl, or more than one. Maybe one apiece."
Grimska piped up. "I want to know more about that, but Vaysh, you can't just dangle something like that and not follow up. Explain, please. Then I need someone to tell me what the hell pearls have to do with anything."
Jaffa was in an exceptionally effusive mood, leaning over to kiss Thorn with a quick but passionate sharing of breath. I ruthlessly squelched any thoughts of comparison to past claims on my lips.
"Do you know anything of Thiede?" I asked.
"Not really," Noric replied. "From Feslavit we've figured out he's the master of your mini-kingdom over there, and he's quite powerful. I've noticed disturbances in the airs and strange energies from the fortress, but not all the time. Not in a while, actually. Who is he?"
"He is a supreme har." Feslavit spoke with reverence and awe. "He created Vaysh from shadow, spirit and memory."
Noric looked highly skeptical. "Beg pardon?"
I let out a laboured sigh. "I haven't actually asked him straight out, so I don't know details. What Feslavit says is correct. I died at Castlegar, but Thiede had plans for me, and apparently not even something as trifling as death was going to change them. Instead, something else unexpected did," I said, swallowing back the bitterness stuck in my throat.
"He… you're regenerated? Brought back from the dead?" Noric's eyes grew wide. It was the most blatant shock I'd ever seen in his usually pragmatic expression.
"Yes. I don't know how; some harish miracle. It took him seven years, but I didn't know that until Jaffa and Thorn were brought here. Before, I had an inception scar and—" The vivid band of my tattoo flashed into my mind's eye, but I forced that anguish away as well. Velaxis' 'Don't be ungrateful' rang in my head. "I'm almost exactly the same," I finished, a bit lamely.
Grimska regarded me, the incredulty rolling off of him like his sweat. The silence became oppressive. Though I wanted to think even less on pearls and harlings snatched away from me, any topic seemed better than the thundering symphony of unspoken questions.
"You weren't alone before, were you?" Noric asked, an unexpected tenderness in his voice.
"I'm not discussing him," I said flatly. I wanted to scour my mouth with razor wire; anything to get the forbidden taste of Ashmael forever off my palate.
Grimska patted Noric on the thigh, and the topic was dropped. Firethorn stepped into the breach, elaborating on the genesis of harish-exclusive life, and his first years with his hostling and father. Jaffa couldn't resist interjecting his devotions to Thorn, about Firethorn's skills and harish qualities, all but stating outright that aruna with him surpassed any other experience: that Firethorn, in essence, was beyond compare. Firethorn's mouth quirked in a precocious grin, looking under his lashes first at Jaffa, and then bestowing a wide smile and shrug on Grimska and Noric. I had no doubt those four would be up all night together after that blatant display. More power to them.
They should invite Feslavit in, I thought, stifling my remembrances of Velaxis' tongue as it had mapped my body like an enthusiastic cartographer. I'd not let anyone near me since; not due to any false loyalty to Velaxis, but because I couldn't bear it. Aruna made me want to be soume, which brought me grief.
* * * * *
Another interminable winter at last began to thaw. After a couple of tantalysing false starts, the land warmed in earnest. The air filled with incessant dripping sounds as the icicles and layers of snow hearkened back to their liquid form. Faint plinking streams turned to rushing gullies. Vegetation sprang up from the ground; trees decked themselves in green finery. As the days grew longer, Firethorn enlisted the help of Kervad, a kinshar to Nevrast and companion of Feslavit, with the building of a greenhouse. Thorn seemed the most animated when he had at least one construction project going. On a mild afternoon in early summer, I joined Firethorn out in a section of woods near the garden. He'd decided to create a treehouse of sorts, which I thought was foolish, but his enthusiasm was contagious. From the platform he'd constructed, we could see the shining glass of the greenhouse, much like the one he'd fabricated in Castlegar. I asked him if he missed the mountain— Thiede hadn't told them what his plans were, only that he wanted them to be nearer to Immanion than Megalithica.
"I miss my father and hostling," he admitted. "I wish I could send them a letter or something. Maybe I can visit again, but I'm having a good time here. I do miss Lemmy a bit, too. He'll break hearts, that one."
I mulled over his comments, and thought of Velaxis, the har who said he acted on free will alone. The har who was the personal assistant to our godhead; our manipulative, far-seeing, loving and pitiless creator. But I'd seen weird mysteries in Velaxis' gaze, his pride and the flame of individuality that burned as brightly as Thiede's. Maybe he was the only har capable of withstanding a bout of aruna with Thiede. Why wasn't he made Tigron, then? Perhaps he'd said no. He was titanium and diamond, beautiful and with an almost alien strength, a harrowing vision of the indestructable.
"Why don't you write to them. Ask Jaffa if he wasnts to write to Wycker or whomever else. Just don't mention me; I don't think anyone there would understand. I think I know of a har who'd be willing to take a message to Castlegar for you."
His face brightened. "I can guess who you have in mind. He's an odd one; I can't place my finger on what it is. He has a quality to him that's unseen, like when you see a shadow out of the corner of your eye but when you turn— nothing."
"Like a vampire?" I suggested and he laughed uproariously.
Once he'd calmed down, he said, "Yes, that would explain a lot! Except you didn't have to wear a scarf around your neck the morning after Natalia. If he'd been a vampire, he couldn't have resisted you."
I gave him my best deadpanned expression. "If he'd been a vampire, I'd have been sucked dry."
Summer spread her arms over the countryside, and everyhar basked in the sunny days and relatively mild nights. A couple of weeks before the height of summer, Kervad convinced Jaffa and Firethorn to go with him to spend a day or two out by the sea. They in turn, without much provocation, convinced me to join them. Feslavit had gone off on some week's-long errand to Olopade, a harish territory to the southwest of us. He didn't volunteer what it was about, and I didn't press him. I'd never been to the beach, never in any of my former two lives, and I found I had butterflies banging around excitedly in my stomach the morning we set off. Kervad's hair, thick and straight and the colour of cornsilk, was pulled back into a wide plait, with a small cascade of blue hepatica flowers woven in. He sang as he rode and after a short while, Thorn accompanied him. When Kervad dropped out, Firethorn sang a bit on his own, a more earthy but no less joyful sound pouring from his throat.
Our path took us into an abandoned human town. As with all of them, it was in an accelerated state of decay. The empty stone buildings and wilted, but still-proud houses that hearkened back to a much earlier age, seemed less malveolent than some. Kervad confirmed this, saying, "Plague and fear drove most humans from this area before we came into being. It was long empty when we came on the scene. We've been fortunate and haven't had many skirmishes. It doesn't mean that humans won't return from the east, though. Their weather is much harsher."
The tang of salt lifted my spirits like dandelion fluff carried lazily on the breeze. Wheeling gulls cried to one another as they circled overhead. Even before I set eyes on the waters, I felt a lightening on my heart; it was as though I'd been carrying a boulder for ages and hadn't known it until all at once, it was taken from me. The cobblestone roads weren't the worse for wear, and the sound of our horses' hooves clopping on the stone sounded like music. A wide expanse of beach greeted my vision, a dun-coloured swath of sand, unspoiled and with tall grasses growing in tufts. Nearby were pine forests, their resiny fragrance beckoning me almost as powerfully as the pristine sand. I glanced over at my companions, who appeared to be as caught up in rapture as I was.
"What do you think?" I called over to Jaffa. The wind had picked up and it was blustery, yet bright and warm.
"Unbelievable!" he said, glee stamped on his face. "This is gorgeous!"
We spent the day frolicking in the water, eating, drinking and lying in the sun, though I made a shelter for myself as it didn't take long for me to get a sunburn. Around mid-day Kervad and Jaffa went and caught a few fish in a river that bisected the former human town. We'd brought along plenty of fresh fruit, bread, some sweet cakes, and plenty of liquor. As the day sped too quickly along to evening, it was decided we should spend the night. The wind had calmed as the day progressed and the horses were housed in a stable near the beach. Kervad said his kinshar had built the stable several years ago; most of the hara who'd gravitated to the fortress had been incepted near Tollsend but found themselves called to Thiede's vague summons.
The night was mild, and the sun didn't set until quite late. Jaffa made a fire on the sands and brought out a guitar— not his from Castlegar, but one he'd borrowed from another har from our stronghold. Firethorn had a wooden recorder-like instrument that Kervad had carved for him; the two played duets and Kervad sang a few songs as Jaffa attempted to accompany him with varying success. As the dauthi flowed, Kervad fashioned an impromptu drum from a piece of driftwood. To my own amazement, I found myself dancing, slow and sensual while Kervad drummed a hypnotic beat and Firethorn played a tune worthy of a snake-charmer. Eventually we settled down for the night, Thorn sprawled out at Jaffa's side, a small assembly of blankets discreetly covering them.
Kervad spread out his bedroll near mine while wordlessly propositioning me. He had dignity robed in a childlike naivite which suited him, though I found it paradoxical. That night, I also found him irresistable.
"It must be the sea air, razzing my common sense," I said as he fumbled with the inner flaps and laces of my riding pants. They were a bit complicated to unfasten, and we were all pretty drunk. "I don't do this anymore."
"Then this has been the best kind of excursion," he said, his green eyes shining delightedly. He acted as though he had a pile of gifts to unwrap, as opposed to just getting me to a full state of undress. "You should do this. We need it. You need it, just as you really needed to get away and to swim like a fish in the waters."
"It was freezing!" I reminded him as he straddled my lap. Behind him a gibbous moon hung low and oversized, a luminous voyeur above the horizon.
A saucy grin traipsed across his lips. "It's good for you." He let his hands and fingers to the talking for a time. I could tell he was being cautious; he was respectful and wary. He teetered between ouana and soume; he tried to pick up on my every nuance.
"Come here, meadow eyes," I said. They were an arresting emerald colour, with blue-grey around the pupil I'd noticed earlier in the day. He eased himself down on me, playful and eager like a puppy. "Just kiss me," I said hoarsely as his mouth hovered atop mine. "Kiss me so deeply I taste only you. We can share breath later."
Though I could tell I'd accidentally hurt his feelings, he agreed. I explained without words how much passion could be conveyed with only filaments of shared breath, letting the body and our tongues claim and nibble without an onslaught of images. I was an instructor— I was shocked. It emboldened me, though I wasn't so far in my cups as to consider being soume. Even the thought of it thawed open the wounds best kept in their frozen stasis.
"The ouana is strong in you," I noted, stroking slowly up and down his ouana-lim, enjoying the sensation of the soft skin over strong core, of teasing open the closed petals as he groaned his frustration and desire.
"And the soume in you," he panted, licking wetly up my neck to feast on my mouth. He shared breath more fully, spilling his passion and lavendersilk lust deep within my lungs. His own fingers found their way to card gently at the soft hairs around my ouana-lim, though it was plain he wanted to let them spelunk further into my hidden caves. "Why are you fighting it?"
My body had become used to long, self-decreed deserts of aruna and affection, but now my harish soul was deafening in its cries to be fed. I still rule you, I thought, allowing many pleasures but harshly freezing off the parts I didn't want to face.
"Kervad, now isn't the time," I said with tenderness, and a faint overtone of rebuke. "The fact that you and I are sweaty and naked under the moon is rare enough. I don't want to dig up spectres from my past."
"Gloriously naked."
"What?" His hand had ventured tenaciously between my legs; I gripped his ouana-lim, not to the point of pain, but enough for him to heed the warning.
"You're gloriously naked," he repeated, his errant fingers back around the base of my quite interested, pulsing ouana-lim.
"Have you ever tried aruna with both har as ouana?"
He shook his head, a boyish smile on his face. "Why would anyhar do that?"
"Because it feels incredible." I kissed along his jaw to the sensitive skin of his earlobe. "And because it's what I want to teach you."
A faint sigh ghosted over my shoulder, but he soon forgot any disappointment once I'd arranged us side to side and head to groin in an unbroken loop of bliss. Like the rest of him, the scent between his legs and the taste of the flowered flesh was of musk and fragrant thyme. We each banqueted on the full fruits of the other's ouana-lim; he was fierce and yet worried about his technique. Finally via mind-touch I forced out, You're doing everything right. Be natural. This is aruna, too.
Once he trusted me, he licked and kissed with abandon until the fiery circle of our commingled pleasure consumed us both. We were hurled into the white explosion of release, a noisy enterprise muffled somewhat due to our full mouths. He seemed almost sheepish afterwards, wanting to cuddle up next to me. I suspected he'd not been so taken by surprise since his initial experience. I hoped he wouldn't read signs into our coupling that weren't there, and to my relief, he didn't. He pointed out constellations to me in an increasingly sleepy voice as I told him the names for the patterns as I'd been taught. I'd nearly closed my eyes to sleep when a star shot down the far right of the sky, its red trail gleaming for precious seconds before it vanished.
"A shooting star!" Kervad said excitedly, though through a yawn. He nuzzled at my temple, decorating the side of my face with slow kisses. "They're good omens."
"For what?" I asked, genuinely curious.
"For everything. For travel and personal destiny. You can make wishes on them, too."
He'd draped himself half on me, and I'd pulled our blankets over top of us. I hadn't slept out of doors since the scouting party that had led to that first meeting with Thiede, long ago. I let out a deep breath, exhaling those memories to make room for new ones in this moment of peace.
"Do you have a list of wishes?" I asked softly, turning on my side in his arms to get comfortable.
"No, I'm pretty easy-going. I believe in bringing my wishes and hopes to life on my own."
"Wise har."
He let out a huffed snort and kissed my forehead. "Wise-arse is probably more accurate. Sleep well, Vaysh."
"You too."
When I awoke the next morning I was alone, my head full to bursing with the wild courses of dreams I'd had in the night. The remembrance of them was vivid and unshakeable for a time as I relived them before their clarity dimmed: I'd walked past Firethorn and Jaffa, rooning up on the platform of the treehouse, Jaffa standing with Firethorn behind, Jaffa's face in ecstasy as he took both roles as soume and ouana. Venturing up toward the fortress I'd looked at the garden, overflowing with vegetables as though no-one had tended it in years. When I opened the door, once inside I was back in the upper astronomy room at the heart of Castlegar. I'd busied myself at the telescope while Velaxis, suddenly in the room with me, had me point it to this constellation and the next, calling them by names I'd never head of and showing me an astronomy book I couldn't read. 'Didn't you learn anything?' he asked, exasperated, but all of the pretense and haughtiness had been washed away from him, and I cried at how beautiful he was. He consoled me, rocking, because I'd crumped to the floor, crouched at his feet until he'd pulled me up into his lap like a child. I sobbed and sobbed while he shushed me. 'Your beauty lies in tragedy,' he said, as though I'd feel better. In the dream I had felt comforted, and wandered off, finding myself in the dilapidated farmhouse on the Varrish border. It was night and the moon shone so brightly that everything had shadows, a chiarascuoro landscape of silvers and greys. There was a regular thudding sound followed by cracking. Curious, but not frightened, I'd wandered around the side to see Ashmael chopping wood with his sword. He smiled at me, his face smudged and his hair long down his back. 'We need to build a fire,' he said. 'Okay,' I'd replied, looking for an axe and pulling my hair back. 'I'll do it,' he said, and gratefully I'd stepped over to him, letting him braid my hair.
On the beach, my eyes gritty with tears I must have shed during the night, I tried to sort through what it all meant and decided it was just a dream, filled with the snippets of memories brought back by sleeping under the stars. I did feel a tiny flicker of intimacy with Jaffa and Firethorn that wasn't warranted, as the memories of powerful dreams like that seem like truth.
"How'd you sleep?" Firethorn asked, a blanket pulled around him as Jaffa worked the fire. I'd guessed Kervad had gone to tend to our horses; he adored them and was quite often at the stables when Firethorn hadn't conscripted him to other enterprises.
"Pretty well," I said, stretching. "I had a huge, crazy dream, though. You two were in it."
"Dare I ask what we did?" Jaffa asked with a lopsided grin.
"Well…" I let my voice trail off.
"All that after the aruna you took?" Firethorn tossed out, his eyebrows raised in mock disbelief. "I'm surprised you dreamed at all. I bet Kervad slept like a log."
"I'm full of surprises," I drawled, heading over to the woods to take care of my aching bladder.
* * * * *
I went back to the welcoming, abandoned town and long spit of high sand dunes with its pine forests several times that summer. As the season waned and the air grew full with the buzz of preparation that autumn heralded, Feslavit and I made a trip out together, just the two of us. We took a tent to shelter us from the cold now that the days and nights were far more brisk. We walked along the shore, lost in our thoughts, when a roiling cloud appeared in the distance down the strand. I stopped in my tracks, my mouth suddenly dry. I knew of only a few people who travelled by sedim, and one I hadn't seen in quite some time.
Sure enough, with a grand, elegant leap from the aethers, Thiede came down onto the beach towards us. Both he and the sedu radiated their regal resence as the horse galloped nearer us, slowing to a walk as they approached. Thiede looked around at the sea, and setting sun, smiling benevolently as though giving it all his approval. I tried to quell the fear that raced in me; I had no idea what thoughts went through Feslavit's mind.
"Hello Vaysh, Feslavit," Thiede said warmly, patting his sedu and shaking the ice crystals out of his vivid hair. "This is a picturesque beach. Not as warm as I prefer, but a beautiful location nonetheless."
I didn't know what to say. I was at a loss as to how to act around him, even now when he had cast off his intimidating luminous, god-like presence that so often blazed around him. Right now he was in a more simple guise of har, but he was here for a reason.
"I'd never been to a beach until this summer," I finally forced past my stiff tongue.
"I love the water," Thiede said wistfully, pulling his cape around him and dismounting onto the sand. I was sure he'd come from Immanion, far to the south. "Balmy water, that is. Feslavit, your homeland has all kinds of natural hot springs and pools, doesn't it?"
"Yes, and geysers. Lots of hot pools, mineral waters, but also glaciers and ice. I thought it was beautiful."
"The place of my birth was decidedly not," Thiede declared, and the sentence was spoken such as not to invite any questionning. "However, now I surround myself with beautiful things and gorgeous hara, who are building an exquisite city of dreams. That's not why I'm here, though."
The ozone scent had faded; his sedu nosed at his hair and a knowing smile graced Thiede's face. I suddenly wondered if they communicated even when not traversing the wild madness of the Otherlanes. I couldn't imagine one of those otherworldly creatures as a pet; they were far too regal and proud for that. A companion, of sorts?
"There's a frivolous area to the south, Ferelithia. Nothing too scandalous, yet, but I hope there will be. I'd like you and the two from Castlegar to go and spend some time there. I'll see much of it through you; I can't seem to stay incognito for long and I'm curious," he said, amusement flickering in his eyes.
I simply couldn't look him full on for more than a few seconds, even in this demure state. Still, I indicated I'd heard and approved, as though I could do anything else. Moments later I glanced over at Feslavit, who seemed quite vexed.
"Why do you not send me, too?" he asked, moving by instinct nearer to me. The occasions we shared a bed were platonic, but his hopes and devotion ran as deep as the ocean. "I take care of him."
Thiede's eyebrow raised; the sedu wandered a few steps away to graze on some nearby grasses, blowing in the wind.
"Vaysh. Do you need taking care of?"
I disliked having to be rude outright, but there was nothing for it. "No. He knows that. He cares for me; there's a difference. It's loyalty."
"I need you here, Feslavit," Thiede insisted.
"For what?"
His ability to stand up to Thiede was inspiring, even if unwarranted. I was more nervous about getting closer to Immanion, even though I knew full well Thiede wouldn't let me anywhere near Ashmael.
"To run the household. To make sure the hara of Tollsend and other nearby towns don't get soft. I picked you and planted you here. I thought you liked it?"
Thiede had drawn closer, and cupped Feslavit's strong jaw in his hand, the long fingernails pressing slightly into his skin. Feslavit quailed, but remained stalwart in his convictions.
"I do," he said, his voice low and respectful. "But Vaysh has my heart. Even if he doesn't want it."
A short, heavy sigh came from Thiede's lips and he rolled his eyes. "You're sentimental, and needlessly tragic. I'd so hoped that hara wouldn't sink so quickly back into the ridiculous affectations of humankind when it comes to relationships."
I'd begun tugging at the hair behind my ear. I caught myself doing it; it was a nervous habit.
"Vaysh is lovely, though overly maudlin and stand-offish without reason. I adore you, too, though," he said to me silkily, "otherwise you wouldn't be here now. But I want your eyes and ears in Ferelithia for a time, and then I think you should get to know your neighbour Phade in Olopade. Don't talk back to me, Feslavit. I won't have it."
The hand on Feslavit's jaw had been brushed down his long neck, the back of Thiede's fingers smoothed past his throat. With the last two sentences, however, Thiede's eyes sparked the faintest silver anger, and his palm smacked above Feslavit's heart. His gesture caused Feslavit to swallow hard, his Adam's apple jostling noticeably.
"So! It's decided," Thiede went on, his jovial demeanour bursting from him like an oppressively bright morning after a night of too much dauthi. He stood between us, draping an arm over our shoulders like a swan spreading her wings over goslings. Thiede's scent was of orange and cedar; he smelled of golden smoke, released from the driving passions burning ceaselessly in his blood to beautify, englighten, rule, and subdue.
"We all deserve happiness," he said brightly. We watched the waters lapping at the sand, a biting wind hitting us with a gust from the north. "And I shall be happy once my chief engineer stops hounding me for a street plan. I thought that was why I brought him on. I'm far more interested in the design of the palace, and keeping an eye on some promising hara in Saltrock and your own Castlegar. Though I've already brought the cream of that crop across the Girdle of Tiamat."
He drew away, my banging heart slowing down from its frenzy once he wasn't right next to me. He paced the few steps to the sedu. "Velaxis will be here in a day or two. Be ready to go; he'll bring sedim for the three of you. I'm sure Tassia will enjoy seeing you again."
My gaze followed him as he swung gracefully onto the back of the horse, inclined his head in farewell, and raced down the sand. The gravity-defying creature leaped joyfully into the air, and the turbulent rippling in the aethers stilled.
Feslavit turned to me, forlorn. His voice was leaden with resignation. "You are leaving, foxglove."
"So it appears."
He nodded, and took my hand. We walked slowly back toward the tent, Feslavit kicking viciously at the sand.
"I will help you pack."